


Look Up and Out

by Liadt



Category: Bulman, The Paradise Club
Genre: Gen, Waltzing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George Bulman gets distracted on the dancefloor. Danny Kane also has his interest piqued.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look Up and Out

“Hey!”

“Ouch!”

“Watch it!”

“Oof!”

It had all been going so well, thought Lucy. George knew the steps, so why was he leading them straight into their fellow dancers? She and George were waltzing across the dance floor of The Paradise Club. They were taking part in a regional ballroom dancing heat, but unlike the other competitors they weren’t aiming for a trophy. Lucy didn’t think they would win, but a place in the top five was in their grasp. All that practising was for nothing, she hoped none of her dance students were watching - hardly a good advertisement was it? She had chosen the waltz because it wasn’t too fast and the couples were meant to look out and not into each other’s eyes, both of which were plus points when the object was keeping tabs on another competitor. The other reason she had picked out the waltz was it was a romantic dance. Something suggestive would have given them both rigor mortis of the hips she was sure and a big fat zero from the judges, although their current performance was rapidly dropping into the minuses. One of their fellow twirlers had decided chaste romanticism was out and wore a low cut dress that was provocatively split to the thigh. She gave George and Lucy a dirty look. Any chance of her attracting the judges’ attention by kicking her long legs out was wrecked by George knocking a female competitor over. The fallen lady exposed more flesh than a skimpy dress could as she landed on her back.

“George, I know I told you to look up and out, but it doesn’t mean you can’t look where you’re leading us,” hissed Lucy, through the fake grin plastered on her face.

“Sorry, Lucy, but I’ve spotted Danny Kane on the stairs,” said George.

“Danny who?”

“Daniel Kane, son of Old Ma Kane. A Queen of the villains and he’s her general.”

“And he has what to do with our investigation?”

“Nothing most probably, but he‘s bound to be up to his armpits planning something.”

Lucy interrupted him, “You’re not job any more remember?”

“I know,” said George, sadly.

“We’ve our own job to do, which was to follow chummy number ten, dis-creet-ly. If you’ve blown our cover, we don’t get paid and if we don’t get paid we’ll be dancing in the flat to keep warm, instead of for fun. British Gas don’t waive bills y’know.”

George harrumphed back he wasn’t stupid. “I like to know what’s going on. There won’t be any bills for me to worry about if I walk straight into a bunch of villains in the middle of a blagging. No one would believe I’m innocent. Ever since Operation Countryman if a toerag points the finger at a ex-copper the rubber heelers come round.”

Lucy decided to emancipate the female ballroom dancer and took the lead from George. If they were going to lose, at least it wouldn’t include additional charges of GBH from the other twirlies. 

****

Taking his eyes off the scene below him, Danny Kane turned to the bulky minder that was standing next to him on the staircase. “Does that oaf being dragged around by the girl look familiar to you? I’m sure I’ve seen him somewhere before.”

“No, boss, is he a flat foot?” answered the minder.

“Twinkle toes could be a copper, but why send someone in who sticks out like a sore thumb? I know from previous competitions there are competent dancing plods out there. Why not send one of them?” mused Danny.

“Dunno. Perhaps it’s a rozzer from way back you‘ve forgotten about - he’s no spring chicken. Doesn’t your brother have a good memory? Couldn’t you ask him back to check?”

“It’s not a five minute drive from Liverpool to here, numbskull. I doubt he’d help even if he was next door.”

“Why not? He’s family innee?”

“He’s a catholic priest, dummy, he only does good deeds. He puts lead back on roofs,” grumbled Danny.

“What about the Borgias?”

“What about them?” said Danny, confused.

“One of them was Pope. He had kids and got up to all sorts that God was dead against. Checking out a bloke is well saintly in comparison. It doesn’t seem right leaving you to help your poor old Ma run things on your own.”

Danny shook his head. “I wouldn’t let the old girl hear you say that - she’s got the stamina of a woman half her age. From what I’ve heard, Frank’s been pushing it with his Father Superior as it is.”

“Then he is like a Borgia?”

“Nah, he ain’t no ponce - he gets overly physical helping out his flock. Thall shalt not thump repeatedly, even if the scumbag deserves it. That’s not the only thing; the last time he called, he was saying hail Mary’s in praise of his tipster and not to God. That’s interesting,” said Danny, suddenly distracted.

“What is, boss?”

“D.I Homes has come in in disguise as a real person. The oaf and the girl are attempting to duck away from him. If they swing this way I may help them out the back entrance, if they say the right words in my confession box.”

“Confession box?”

“My office,” sighed Danny, as he descended down to the dance floor.

****

**Author's Note:**

> Operation Countryman was an investigation in to police corruption in the Met in the 1970's. Rubber Heelers is slang for the teams investigating bent cops.


End file.
